


Romance at the Sorcerer's Brew

by Alisanne



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-15
Updated: 2018-06-15
Packaged: 2019-05-23 13:57:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14935592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alisanne/pseuds/Alisanne
Summary: Romance blossoms over coffee and chocolate.





	Romance at the Sorcerer's Brew

**Author's Note:**

> **A/N:** Written for HP_Coffeehouse's challenge # 15: [You and Me cups with chocolate squares](https://hp-coffeehouse.dreamwidth.org/21351.html). 
> 
> **Beta(s):** Sevfan and Emynn.
> 
> **Disclaimer:** The characters contained herein are not mine. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.

~

Romance at the Sorcerer’s Brew

~

Hermione had just settled into a chair and opened her book when a shadow fell over her. She looked up, blinking when she saw who it was. “Zabini?” 

Blaise Zabini, looking as suave and gorgeous as she remembered from school, stood there, a cup in one hand and a copy of the _Prophet_ in the other. “I hate to ask, Granger, but the chair next to yours appears to be the only open seat in here at the moment. Do you mind if I—?”

“Oh! No, of course not. G…go ahead. F…feel free.” Exasperated at herself for stammering, Hermione snapped her mouth shut and gestured to the armchair facing hers. 

“Thank you.” Zabini moved over the chair and folded himself gracefully into it. “I promise you won’t even know I’m here.” 

Hermione held back a snort with sheer force of will, smiled tightly, and returned to her book. 

But of course she wasn’t able to concentrate. Not with ridiculously handsome Blaise Zabini seated across from her. And how was it he always managed to make her so flustered and untidy? It wasn’t fair! Ever since the Slug Club, she’d been unable to act cool and collected around him. And now here he was at The Sorcerer’s Brew, and within speaking distance no less.

Maybe it was because he was so bloody handsome? Eyeing him over top of her book, Hermione chewed her bottom lip and considered that. She knew other handsome men. Hell, she’d even dated a few. But none of them made her react like he did. 

Something about him had always turned her head, slipped under her skin. And it didn’t hurt that he’d turned out to be not only handsome but brave and resourceful during the war, protecting younger students from the Carrows his seventh year, secretly helping Neville shuttle people out of the castle when life because too dangerous for them. 

It had all come out in the Death Eater trials, and he’d even had threats on his life from former followers of Voldemort, but he’d stood his ground, providing testimony against several of them. Yes, he really was the entire package, damn him. 

“Is there something on my face?” Zabini asked, leaning forward to place his cup on the table next to hers. 

Blinking, Hermione came back to herself with a start, realising she had lowered her book to stare openly at him. Clearing her throat, she dropped her eyes and tried her best to collect herself. “No, not at all,” she said. “I, er, I was simply deep in thought.” 

Zabini’s warm chuckle slid down her back. “About deep Arithmancy topics, I presume?” 

Hermione opened her mouth to reply, then closed it. While the cover sleeve proclaimed her book an Arithmancy tome, she had slipped an erotic romance novel inside. And naturally, her expression gave her away.

“But it’s not, is it?” Zabini’s smile deepened. “What are you really reading? Is it a graphic novel? Or perhaps it’s a romance? Aha, it is!” He laughed softly. 

Hermione stared at him. “How did you know?” 

“I didn’t, but you just confirmed it.” Zabini grinned as her mouth fell open. “That’s Slytherin trick 101.” He stretched out his hand. “You may as well hand it over. I’m curious to see what Hermione Granger reads in her spare time.”

Hermione inclined her head, an imp of perversion making her hand it to him. He scanned the page, his mouth dropping open. 

“As you can see,” she said sweetly, “it’s romance, but probably not of the sort you assumed I’d be reading.” 

“Well,” he said, handing it back to her. “I must say, you’ve managed to surprise me, Granger. Gay male romance isn’t something in which I thought you’d indulge.” 

“Why not?” Slipping the book into her purse, she smirked at him. “I find them to be interesting explorations of the power balance between two people of similar societal standing.”

Zabini’s eyes narrowed. “Are you implying heterosexual romance has an inherent power imbalance?” 

“Of course.” Hermione mirrored his pose. “Have you ever read a typical heterosexual romance? The male’s usually successful, rich, popular, and the woman is generally a poor, virginal beauty who he deigns to seduce and then inadvertently finds himself falling in love with. There’s some manufactured conflict and then she gives up her life to do as he says, dress as he says, become who he says.” Hermione snorted. “After you’ve read one of those, you’ve read them all. Gay romances at least treat the principles as individuals, and when they come together, it’s two separate people choosing to do so, with the full knowledge this is one of several options available.” She hummed. “Plus, the sex is hot. And in all-female romances, women even get to top.” 

Zabini gaped at her. “Well,” he finally said, eyebrow raised. “Aren’t you a surprise?” 

“Am I?” Hermione sat back in her chair. “Why’s that?” 

“Well, I’ve always been curious about you. You’re quite the mystery. Even when we were in the Slug Club together I didn’t gather anything more about you than that your parents are dentists. Which makes sense since you’re not fond of very sweet things.” 

Hermione blinked. “Wait, how do you know _that_?” 

Zabini hummed. “The power of observation.” He nodded at their cups, which were side by side on the table. “I got hot chocolate, you got black coffee. I got a milk chocolate square, yours looks like sixty-five percent dark—”

“Seventy, actually.” 

Zabini nodded. “As I said, not that sweet.” 

Hermione smiled. “Well spotted. Has anything else surprised you about me?” 

“Yes.” Zabini’s voice dropped into a silky drawl. “You get more beautiful every time I see you. Your skin was always lovely, but in this light it’s a warm, lickable caramel, and I love those short curls on you, they make me want to run my fingers through them. Also,” he gave her a slow once over, “not liking overly sweet things has definitely stood you in good stead, your figure is still spectacular.” 

Hermione blinked. “Why, Zabini,” she said, tone faint. “Are you trying to seduce me?” 

“Of course.” Zabini’s eyes danced with amusement. “Is it working?” 

Damn him and his damnable charm. Hermione exhaled. “I haven’t decided yet.” 

“Well,” he said, his gaze holding hers. “I can promise a relationship of equals, with both of us choosing what to do when we want to do it.” He licked his lips. “Also, if you ever want to top, Hermione, I certainly won’t say no.” 

Hermione laughed so loudly, several people throughout the coffeeshop turned to stare. Clapping her hand over her mouth, she composed herself. “I’ll…take that under advisement,” she said, still giggling. 

“Good.” Zabini raised his cup in salute. “So, Hermione Granger, would you like to go out with me?” 

Smiling back, Hermione nodded. “All right, Blaise Zabini. Yes, I think that could be fun.” 

~


End file.
